Godfather Duties
by RRSherlock
Summary: Danny or Martin? And just what does Samantha need them to do? Warning for Character death & angst.
1. Chapter 1

Godfather Duties

_Danny, Martin or Jack. Who will win the title and just what does Samantha need for him to do?_

**Spoilers:** None. Set just before the season 6 finale.

**Disclaimer:** As usual, I own nothing but the plot—and I guess, Evan. Does "Baby Boy Spade" actually have a name yet on the show????

**Chapter 1**

Samantha sat between Danny and Martin on a bench in the Federal Quad enjoying a bit of lunch and quiet before returning to the bustle that was their department lately. It wouldn't be too much longer before she gave birth and these quiet moments would become things of the past. And with the question of Godfather still hanging out there, bribery was a wonderful way not to pay for her own lunch.

"Come on, Sam! You've got to pick one of us!" Danny cajoled.

"Why?" Sam rubbed a hand over her belly and winked at Martin. "Why could you possibly want to know who I want to be my son's godfather?"

Danny rolled his eyes, "Well, I doubt you'll pick Jack. I mean, the whole office heard you shouting at him yesterday!"

"So, that just leaves Danny and me," Martin interjected, "So, Sam, inquiring minds want to know! Who are you going to ask to help keep the little squirt in line?"

"'Little squirt?' You're calling my child 'squirt' and expect me to name one of you his godfather?" Sam teased. She had already made up her mind ages ago—well, really about two and a half seconds after she found out she was having a boy. She sighed heartily, "Alright, here's the deal. My 'little squirt' here, as you so put it," she nodded to Martin, "is going to need all the help he can get. I mean, what do I know about standing up to pee and all?"

"So?" Danny just wanted her to get to the part where he could start gloating over Martin.

"So, I've decided why pick just one, when I—well, _he_—could have two?" Sam looked at her two best friends and smiled, "I want you both to be his godfather. I really mean it when I said he's going to need some help."

"Aw, Sam! Really? I have to share?" Danny whined and kicked at a napkin blowing in the light breeze.

Sam laid a hand on his arm, "Yes, Daniel, you have to share. I know that it's tough for you, being the youngest and all. But it's time to act like a grown-up and share your toys!"

"Wow! The kid's not even here and all ready you sound like a mom!" Martin grinned at her.

"You think?" Sam blushed.

Danny nodded, "Sounded pretty convincing to me! Ok, I'll share god-duties with Fitzy if I have to!"

"That's great that you want to share, but what if I don't?" Martin asked, timing his wink so that only Sam could see.

Danny rubbed his chin, "Well, doesn't look like we've got much choice in the matter. Unless…"

"Unless what?" Martin asked warily.

Grinning widely, Danny offered a solution, "Unless you want to decline the offer and let me have all the glory."

Samantha just listened to the banter between them knowing that neither would relinquish the title and her small son would have the best of all possible worlds—Danny would teach him all about fun and enjoying life to its fullest, while Martin would show him how to be responsible and treat women with respect. Sometimes, in the darkest hours of the night, she wondered where she and Martin would be if she hadn't gotten pregnant by someone else. She sighed quietly and smiled, listening to Martin's answer.

"Absolutely not! Samantha chose us both for a reason and I will not shirk my duties," Martin jutted his chin, "Besides, with only you for a godfather, the kid's doomed!"

Sam put her hand on Danny's arm, "Just agree to share. Lunch time's over and this is a silly argument."

"OK, Sam. You win," Danny gathered up their trash and tossed it.

Martin helped Sam up off the bench and they all headed back to work.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello wonderful readers! From the traffic report, it seems that I've managed to intrigue a whole lot of you. Now, I'm not one of those petty people who holds chapters ransom for reviews, but I'd love to hear what you think!! Think of reviewing as giving me a paycheck for the work I've done, or a grade for my report card! This isn't a long chapter, but there's more to come…

As usual, I own nothing but the plot.

**Chapter 2**

Three days later found the three of them back in the Quad enjoying lunch again. Danny had brought a second bag with them and refused to give into Sam's curiosity until they finished lunch. Samantha had never eaten a fruit salad and sandwich faster. She really wanted to know what was in the bag.

"I'm done! Can I have the other bag now?" Sam begged shamelessly.

Martin shook his head, "You're done, but we're not! Have patience, Spade!"

"I can't believe I ate faster than you, Martin!" Sam sighed, "You're just going slow to torture me!"

Around the large last bite of his sandwich, Martin shook his head. It took him a moment to chew the mouthful and swallow, but once he did he defended himself, "I was not eating slow on purpose, Sam, I just wasn't as invested as you in figuring out what's in the bag."

Danny hadn't said a word. He knew if he even opened his mouth, Sam would yell at him for eating so slow. He wasn't too far behind Martin, so he just concentrated on finishing his lunch. A few moments later, he finished and pulled the bag up, "OK, Sam. Thanks for your patience," he joked. "This is Martin's and my first Godfather gift to the little squirt," he explained, putting the bag into her hands.

Sam smiled and tore into the tissue. With a gasp she pulled out a beautiful carousel music box. "This is beautiful!" She wiped a tear from her face and leaned into Martin's hug. "Thank you both!"

"Turn it over, Sam," Martin said quietly.

Complying, Samantha noticed the inscription and read it aloud, "To our favorite godson. With much love from your Uncle Danny and Uncle Martin." She shook her head, "I—I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Sam. We were giving you a bad time the other day, but we talked after work and decided we needed to make it up to you," Danny smiled, "We already love you, loving your little squirt isn't a stretch and truthfully, we're both honored to be his godfather."

As Samantha leaned over to kiss Danny's cheek, something caught Martin's eye, "Hang tight here—I want to check something out." He sprinted towards the far corner of the quad and found himself automatically reaching for his weapon, "Stop! FBI!" He aimed at a lone gunman armed with a semi-automatic weapon.

Martin wasn't the only one to see something out of the ordinary. Almost simultaneously he heard shouts of "NYPD!" and "Freeze, CIA!" The only problem now, was that this lunatic didn't seem to care that he had three government agencies working against him. Without warning, the lone gunman opened fire into the quad. He only managed to fire for about five seconds before Martin and the others returned fire, killing him before he hit the ground.

With his gun still drawn, Martin made his way closer to the gunman and he exchanged grim looks between the other officers who had fired. The NYPD officer kicked the gun away from the shooter while one of the CIA officers checked his pulse. He looked up at Martin and shook his head. With a sigh of relief, Martin holstered his gun and was about to introduce himself to the other men who helped bring down the man now lying dead in a pool of his own blood.

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Thanks for reading & reviewing!! :) You know, that little button down there that says, "submit review," you know which one I'm talking about. You know you want to!! Please?


	3. Chapter 3

Well, you all probably want to know what happened with that lone gunman, right? Well, this chapter should answer some of your questions, while raising others. I have to say that this story was one of the ideas that came to me after it was announced that not only was Samantha pregnant, but that it was by "no one you know." I thought the writers would be a tad more responsible in this day and age, but no.

Per my usual, I own nothing but the plot. Enjoy.

**Chapter 3**

_Martin holstered his gun and was about to introduce himself to the other men who helped bring down the man now lying dead in a pool of his own blood._ Instead of introducing himself, Martin whirled and began sprinting back toward where he had left Samantha and Danny. Only registering halfway there that Danny had screamed his name.

Danny knelt helplessly next to Samantha. He held her hand in his and tried to keep her calm, "You're going to be fine, Sam. Hang on, ok?"

She shook her head slightly, "Love you, big brother," she whispered. She was dying and she knew it. The gunman hadn't fired for long, but she was right in his sights when he began spraying bullets into the quad. The first bullet had only grazed her arm, but the next three she felt go right into her chest, knocking her backwards off the bench. She probably looked silly, she mused with a detached corner of her mind, with her legs still on the bench they had been sitting on. It was getting harder to breathe and she needed Martin to do something for her. One last request as it were.

"I love you too, Sam," Danny said though his tears, "But you've got to…"

"Danny?" Martin vaulted over the bench and gasped, "Sam, no!" He knelt on her other side, taking her free hand into his own, "Sam?"

Tearing her eyes from Danny, Samantha managed to swing her head towards Martin, "Marty!" she whispered, "C—c—call."

"Who, Sam? Who do you need me to call?" Martin spoke softly, running his free hand in her hair in a vain attempt to calm her.

"Em—call Emily," she managed to get her entire thought out. Freeing her hand from Danny's, she laid it on her stomach, "Give Em th'baby. Her 'n' Andrew. Promise!" Sam let her eyes close, focusing on the small movements she could still feel and grateful that she could.

"You're sure, Sam? Not the father?" Martin continued to stroke her hair and hold her hand tight.

Sam shook her head and with great effort managed to open her eyes, "No, doesn't want him. Em will. Please."

Martin nodded, "Ok, Sam. I promise. I'll call. And Danny and I will make sure nothing happens to him until then." Unabashedly, Martin let the tears roll down his cheeks. He had looked up briefly at Danny and knew he was crying too.

"But," Sam had one more request.

"What, Sammy?" Danny asked. "What else can we do?"

Samantha's hand moved to where her son was kicking, "Not Sam."

Martin gave Danny a puzzled look, but Danny understood her, "I'll tell Emily for you, Sam. Don't worry, I won't let her name him Sam."

She sighed contentedly. Her son would be safe now. He'd have loving parents and two godfathers who would spoil him rotten. Sam didn't want to leave him, but that wasn't an option any more. She looked from Danny to Martin and without realizing it, spoke from her heart, "Did…do."

Sam had whispered so softly Martin had to bend to hear her. "You do what, Sam?" he was puzzled by her statement.

Looking into his eyes, Sam whispered, "Love you."

"I know, Sam. I've always known. I love you too," Martin kissed her lips softly. As he pulled back, he noticed her eyes had closed and on further inspection saw she wasn't breathing, "Sam? Shit!" He quickly gave her two breaths and checked her vital signs.

"What are you doing?" Danny looked dazed and he was swaying slightly were he sat.

Martin looked up at him, his fingers on Sam's throat, "We have to keep her alive, Danny. Without her, he'll die too," he nodded towards her pregnant belly. Martin saw Danny grow pale, "Danny? Are you hit?" Martin feared the worst.

"Hit?" Danny asked, looking down at his own body, "I don't…"

He had turned slightly and Martin could see the blood flowing from a wound in his partner's shoulder. "Hey, Danny. Partner?" Martin tried to gain his attention.

"What?"

"Can you keep Sam's heart going? I've got to breathe for her," Martin spoke with far more calm than he felt. His partner was going into shock and his ex-girlfriend was dying at his knees. "Danny? Can you do that?"

Without saying a word, Danny found the correct spot and using his uninjured arm, began rhythmically pumping on his best friend's chest. "For my godson," he whispered.

Martin nodded, but didn't respond. After several long minutes, he vaguely realized Vivian had taken Danny's place and that Jack tried to take his. Martin kept him off Sam with a jerk of his shoulder and kept breathing for the sake of her unborn child. Martin could hear Elena talking quietly to Danny and he spared a few seconds to look up at Vivian. Her face matched his—wet with tears. Martin had no idea how long he had been breathing for Samantha when a young paramedic took over for him. He moved out of their way and sat heavily on the ground near enough to watch the paramedics load Danny, with Elena in tow, and Samantha into waiting ambulances. With a trembling hand, he pulled Sam's phone from her purse and scrolled though her directory.

Vivian had moved next to Martin and laid an arm around his shoulders. Jack was nearby talking to other agents, both CIA and FBI, as well as a lieutenant from the NYPD. He was near enough to hear Martin's end of the conversation.

"Mrs. Reynolds? Emily? It's Martin Fitzgerald. I work with your sister," Martin had only observed others telling someone their loved ones were fatally wounded, this was the first time he was going to have to say the words himself, and in his nervousness, he was forgetting the fact that he and Emily had met on several occasions—the most recent being a baby shower Elena and Vivian had organized for Sam. "I—I don't know if you've been watching the news?" The whir of the helicopter blades had been unmistakable and omnipresent since the idiot had pulled the trigger. "You have. Um, the agent that was shot, um," he stopped, unsure what to say.

"Tell her to come here with her husband," Vivian whispered to him. "Tell her about their nephew."

Martin nodded, "You and your husband need to come to New York," he stated quietly, "Come to St. Vincent's Hospital to meet your nephew."

Vivian could hear Emily's voice on the other end, "Is my sister dead?"

"Not yet," Martin whispered before he could stop himself, "I mean, it doesn't look good, Em," he had slipped into Samantha's nickname for her without thinking, "I think you and your husband should get here as quickly as possible if you want to say good-bye." Martin listened for a few seconds longer before agreeing to meet them at the hospital and closing the phone. Having done the duty he promised Samantha, Martin let himself lean into Vivian's strong embrace and cried.

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So now you know…I've killed off Sam. Sorry. So why don't you tell me what you think of the story so far???


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to everyone who's been reading! Special thanks to teyerin, pcdfan4life & drea78 for their reviews!!!

I don't own Without A Trace. If I did, I could stop grading papers for a living!!

**Chapter 4**

It had taken Andrew and Emily almost two hours to reach the southern end of the island and when they finally walked through the doors of the main lobby of St. Vincent's, Martin was again taken back how much Samantha and Emily resembled each other, yet at the same time, had their own unique qualities.

"Your nephew's fine. He was born about ninety minutes ago, healthy as a horse," Martin told them as they made their way to the bank of elevators.

"And Sam?" Emily's voice was a mere whisper, her hand tight in Andrew's.

He swallowed hard, "She's…um…she's in the ICU. We told her doctors you were on your way," Martin pushed the button for the Intensive Care floor.

Andrew was a smart man and understood the subtext, "She's not going to make it, is she?"

Martin could only shake his head around the lump in his throat.

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In the waiting room, Jack stood, staring out the window, but not really seeing what was outside. His thoughts were turned inward, contemplating the cruel hand of fate that had been dealt to a newborn child. He heard the door open and turned, "Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds, I'd like to say it's nice to see you again," he let the statement hang.

"Please, Mr.?" Andrew remembered Samantha's boss, but not his name. "Malone, yes, now I remember, um, please, I'm Andrew and this is Emily."

Jack nodded, "Of course, Andrew. The doctor's been waiting for you and Emily to arrive."

"So it's not too late?" Emily needed to know she could see her sister one last time.

He shook his head, "No, not yet. Danny should be out of surgery soon. The bullet that hit him was lodged in his shoulder. Elena's down in the surgical waiting room," Jack answered Martin's look.

"And Viv?" Martin asked.

"With Sam," Jack answered softly.

Emily kept one hand tightly in Andrew's, but reached her other to Martin. She and Samantha had done much to repair their relationship once the truth about their youth came to light and she knew that Samantha still loved this man. From what she had seen and could still see, he still loved her too, and losing her was killing him. "Can we see her?"

Jack nodded and led them all down the hall. He caught the eye of the on-duty nurse and gave her a purposeful nod, and watched as she went to find the doctor in charge of Samantha.

As she waited for the Reynolds to arrive, Vivian kept one eye on the hallway and one on Samantha; she couldn't stop the tears running down her cheeks. Knowing Samantha was already dead, only 'alive' by virtue of the machines really hurt. She had been looking forward to trading stories with Sam as her son grew. She had hoped Sam would come to her for advice about raising a boy in these crazy times. She imagined Samantha becoming the kind of mother every boy wanted—especially since she knew how to take down someone twice her size and carried a gun for a living. Vivian felt for the little boy asleep upstairs in the nursery who would never meet his mother. How would he ever know what a wonderful person she was and how much she loved him? Vivian moved into the hallway and without preamble, pulled Emily into a hug, "I'm so sorry, Emily."

Emily held on to the older woman, "Thank you for staying with her, Vivian." Never more grateful to her sister for introducing her to her colleague, Emily remembered the last time she was in the city and had met Sam and Vivian for lunch. They had talked about nothing and everything all at once. Their main topic of conversation was what Samantha was going to call her son. They had laughed until they cried over some of their crazy ideas. Emily's personal favorite was Doug. She pulled back, "I'm going to go in now."

Vivian nodded and squeezed her hand once more, "I've already said my good-byes. I'll head up to the nursery and keep an eye on the little one?"

"Sure," Emily answered absently, moving towards the small room where her sister lay. She felt Andrew's hands on her shoulder and waist as they made their way. "Sam never slept on her back," Emily said quietly, "She always was curled into a little ball. And she would wake up at the littlest noise." A small sob escaped her throat as she approached the bed, "Oh, Sammy! I don't want to say good-bye!" She reached out and held Sam's hand tight. It was already cool to the touch. Emily carefully brushed Sam's hair back and kissed her forehead, "I love you, Sam. We'll take good care of him for you and he'll always know you loved him too. You'll watch out for him, right?"

Andrew held Emily close and reached a hand to his sister-in-law's shoulder, "Samantha, thank you for allowing us to raise your son. We'll miss you," he kissed his wife's head and they just stood there, listening to the machine breathe for her and taking in their last few moments.

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Don't forget to review if you liked it! (or even if you didn't!!)


	5. Chapter 5

I don't own Without A Trace. Wish I did. Wish I had more people telling me if they hate this story or like it or wish it would just go away. Any little comment???

**Chapter 5**

"Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Reynolds?" an older doctor tapped on the doorframe, "I'm Dr. Neil Couch. I've been in charge of Samantha since she was brought in."

Andrew took in the man's rumpled white coat and calm demeanor. He reached out a hand, "We appreciate that."

Emily turned, but kept her hand on Samantha's, "There's really nothing that can be done?" She understood that Sam had taken three bullets to the chest, but part of her still held out hope.

Dr. Couch shook his head, "I'm sorry. With the lack of higher brain functions, there really wasn't much we could do for her except stabilize her enough for the C-section and for you to arrive."

"So we're just going to turn off the machines?" Emily whispered.

"Actually, I was wondering if Samantha ever mentioned organ donation."

Emily bit her lower lip and nodded slowly, "Yeah, she did. We met for lunch several months ago."

"_You got shot!" Emily was glad she hadn't taken a drink. "When?"_

"_Um, several years ago now. Martin's first year on our team, actually," Samantha blushed and rubbed her barely showing belly. "I'm sorry I didn't call."_

"_So what happened?" Emily let her curiosity show, waving off Sam's apology._

_Sam shook her head ruefully, "It was a kidnapping ransom drop gone bad. I went into the bookstore before the money and…"_

"_Bookstore?" Emily knit her brow, "That hostage standoff in the Table of Contents bookstore?"_

_Sam just nodded._

_Emily leaned forward, "I was glued to the TV that night. The anchor said that the agent was shot on accident and that he—you!—almost died!"_

"_It __was__ an accident, Em," Sam tried to calm her sister. "Libby was just supposed to go in, ask for the travel section, drop the bag and walk out. But the city's been a bit crazy since 9-11 and one of the other patrons told Barry—the gunman—that wasn't his bag and tried to stop him. After that, it was a waiting game."_

"_A waiting game?"_

"_Yeah, could the FBI out-wait the guy who was off his rocker enough to kidnap his wife's former boss and hold her for ransom," Sam sighed and stretched a little._

"_So what went wrong?" Emily pushed the basket of rolls closer to Sam and smiled when she took the only plain one left._

_Sam broke the roll in half and buttered it while trying to put the events in their proper order, "Like I said, it was a waiting game and one of the other hostages got tired of waiting. I was trying to keep him calm—him and Barry—and managed to gain Barry's trust enough so that he had me take the next phone call from Jack. While I was on the phone, Richard, this other hostage, went for my gun. I had hidden it when Barry first took control of the bookstore. Barry saw what Richard was doing and went after him. They were struggling for my gun and I __had__ to intervene. I couldn't let one of the other hostages get hurt—that's why I was there."_

"_And the gun went off," Emily guessed._

"_Yeah," Sam rubbed her thigh remembering the hot pain that went though her that day. "Yeah, and I got the bullet. At first, all I could think about was how much it hurt, but then, after things settled down, I was really glad it was me and not one of the other hostages."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because that's my job, Emily. It's my job to protect people and not let them get hurt. If I can do something to help someone before they get hurt or into trouble, I'll do it. And, …" Sam wondered if Emily would agree with her line of thinking._

_Emily saw something cross her sister's face, "'And' what, Sam? What else would you do?"_

_Sighing deeply, Sam finished her thought, "And if I can help someone after I'm gone, I'd do that too."_

"_Like donating your organs?" Emily's face softened. "Oh, Sam, I think that's the most selfless thing anyone can do!"_

"_Really?" Sam smiled, "I had no idea you thought like that. I mean, donating bone marrow is one thing, a body can always make more."_

"_Like Mom did for Randy? Yeah, that was kind of selfless too. But giving someone you don't know the gift to live life to its fullest…I don't know, Sam, it just feels like the right thing to do." _

_Samantha laid a hand on her small bump and wondered what the future would bring. She kept her eyes on her hand, "My job's dangerous, Emily." She looked up at her big sister, "Oh, not right now. I think I'm chained to the desk for the duration. But after, when I __can__ go back to running down suspects and chasing leads…" she sighed again, "You're at the top of my emergency contact list, Emily."_

"_Don't worry, Sam. If something ever happened to you, I'll let the doctors know your wishes." Emily knocked the table for luck, "May that not happen for a very long time!"_

_Sam knocked the table and then her own head, "Knock on wood."_

"So organ donation is something Samantha wanted to do?" Dr. Couch asked.

Emily nodded, "She was pretty insistent that if something ever happened," she paused and gulped hard. This was real. Samantha was going to donate her organs; she wasn't going to recover. Emily felt the tears begin to slip down her cheeks and she leaned into Andrew for support.

"Which…I mean, what…what happens now?" Andrew asked for them both.

Dr. Couch opened Samantha's chart and pulled out a form, "I'll need you, Mrs. Reynolds, to sign this release form. Then we'll take her back to surgery and let Samantha help make lives better. I know this is difficult, but we'd really like to have her corneas, kidneys and liver mainly. If there are some tendons, bones and blood vessels that are still viable, we'd like those too. Unfortunately, her heart and lungs are too damaged."

"And then?" Emily whispered.

"And then we'll let her go," he answered softly. Dr. Couch laid a hand on her arm, "She won't feel a thing, I promise."

Emily nodded and reached for the form, "This is what Sam wanted. I—I won't go against her wishes." She signed the form and then turned into Andrew.

Andrew, for his part, was once again amazed by the strength of character of his wife. He didn't know if he could sign the paper for one of his siblings or not. He certainly wasn't sure he could sign the form if it were Emily lying on that bed and not Samantha. When she turned into him, he could only hold her tight, silently giving his support.

Neil Couch had asked families many times to sign the organ donation form and was often taken aback by the selfishness of some families. He was pleased that Emily Reynolds could do the right thing—that she could follow her sister's wishes and sign the form. "Mrs. Reynolds, Mr. Reynolds, thank you very much for doing this. Samantha will help many people live better lives because of your act today. I have to go notify the transplant teams. I'll give you and her colleagues a few more minutes to say good-bye."

Martin had been standing in the hallway outside Samantha's room the entire time. He was glad Emily knew Sam's wishes about organ donation. He knew too, but didn't want to have to break that news to her after telling her Sam was dying. He watched Emily sign the form with a shaking hand and was forcefully reminded of Samantha's own iron will. How was he supposed to come to work every day without her there? How were they going to manage without her spunk and drive?

Lost in his own thoughts, Martin didn't hear Emily approach and only noticed her presence when she reached up to hug him.

"Sam loved you, Martin," she said quietly. "I know you love her. Why don't you take a few minutes alone? We're going to the nursery."

He nodded and started to move to the door, "Emily? Samantha had one other request."

Emily didn't need to ask when Samantha had made the request, so she just tipped her head and waited for him to tell her.

"She, uh, she doesn't want you to name him Sam," Martin said, a lone tear running down his cheek. "That you and Andrew raise him, but not call him Sam."

Jack watched Emily sign the paper with a sinking heart; it was really happening, Samantha Spade would never grace their lives again. He gripped the bag he picked up from under the bench harder. And after Martin made Samantha's last request, he silently put the bag into Martin's hand and nodded towards Emily.

Martin exchanged a look with his boss and nodded, "Um, Sam asked Danny and me to be his godfathers. If it's all right with you and Andrew, we'd still like to be his godfathers." He handed her the bag, "This is our first gift."

Emily opened the bag and smiled, "This is beautiful, Martin." She looked to her husband, silently asking his approval.

"Of course you and Danny can still be his godfathers," Andrew answered. "We'd be honored."

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Thanks for reading!!!


	6. Chapter 6

_Thanks everyone who's still reading! For those of you who don't own stock in any tissue company, you might want to have a few handy…._

**Chapter 6**

"Martin?"

He had been about to step fully into Samantha's room, "Yeah, Jack?"

"Could I…um, could I have a minute first?" Jack didn't want to be there when they came to wheel her away for the last time. He wanted to remember her alive and smiling, not unconscious in a hospital bed and he didn't think he could do that if he watched her being wheeled away.

Martin was about to refuse, but saw something in his boss' demeanor, "Yeah, sure. I'll go grab a drink from the fountain down there," he pointed to the one at the very end of the hallway.

"Thanks, Martin," Jack turned and headed to Sam's bedside. "Hi, sweetheart." The noise from the ventilator was loud in his ears and he rubbed one of the scars on his head absently. Truthfully, it hadn't been too long since he had been a patient in an ICU himself. "There are so many things I want to say Sam and you aren't even here anymore to hear them. But for my own peace of mind, I'm going to say them anyway," he sighed deeply, pulling his thoughts together. "I want to apologize for what I put you through after we ended things. I know I was a jerk, but I never meant to hurt you," he paused to catch his breath and pull his thoughts towards happier times. "I want to thank you for all your support over the years. You really were one of the best I've ever worked with. I don't think the world's going to be the same without a Samantha Spade to give the bad guys a run for their money. I'm so sorry you never got to meet your son, Sam. We'll all keep an eye out for him though. I don't think he'll ever want for anything." He had to stop and wipe his face, noticing Martin heading back down the hall, "Thank you for coming into my life, Samantha. It won't be the same without you. Watch over us, will ya? Love you, Sam," he leaned over and gently kissed her forehead before taking one last look at her face. Then, unable to stay, Jack Malone turned his back and left the room.

Martin could see the tears on Jack's face as he left Sam's room and didn't try to stop him. He wondered absently how long it would take for the team to resume anything approaching normal operation. But just as quickly as the thought came, he dismissed it. In truth, he had been the last one to say good-bye to Samantha already, so it was kind of ironic that here he was, the last one to say good-bye to her again. Only this time, this time it was more for himself than for anyone else. As he approached the bed, he noticed how small she looked. Her skin was so pale that without the tubes coming and going to her body, she'd belong in the basement morgue.

Knowing this would be the last time, Martin took her hand in his kissing it gently and the words beginning to tumble from his lips without censorship, "Oh, Sam. Why did he have to be aiming at you? This isn't fair. I wanted more time with you—I really did. I know I broke up with you right when you were coming to terms with how you felt. I could see it in your eyes. I wanted to take the words back, to hold you in my arms again and tell you we'd figure it out. But I had hurt you too badly and you shut me out. I don't blame you, Sam. I _should_ have been more patient. But we got our friendship back and that has meant more to me these past couple of years than you'll ever know. I would have killed myself on those pills if you hadn't intervened. You saved my life that day and I only wish I could have repaid the favor today.

"I don't know why this had to happen, Sam. I can only promise you that I'll always love you. You have been a very special part of my life and I will never forget you. I'll never forget the way you giggled when I tickled you or how cute you looked in nothing but one of my shirts. I'll tell your son all about how you could kick the bad guys asses but you loved to slip into a bubble bath at the end of the day. I'll make sure he knows all about your obsession with chocolate and your secret love of science fiction. Don't think I didn't notice how addicted I got you to X-Files! He'll know all about your aversion to therapy and your love of happy endings. Danny and I'll make sure he knows all about your wicked sense of humor and how making you smile could turn a cloudy day sunny. Emily may know all about your childhood, but we'll make sure he knows all about the wonderfully complex person we knew. I wish I could trade places with you; that it were me lying there. I wish I could have loved you and had you around for the rest of my life, but like my mom always said, you can't always have what you want. I wish I understood she wasn't just talking about having a candy bar before dinner…Samantha, I'll carry you I my heart always. I love you," Martin finished in a whisper. He stood there for a few moments more, drinking in the sight of her. Letting this last look imprint itself into his brain.

Martin hadn't heard anyone come into the room and was startled by a hand on his shoulder.

"Excuse me, sir," a young intern shifted nervously.

His partner moved to the far side of the bed, "We have to take her to surgery now."

Martin just nodded and gently laid her hand back onto the bed. He stepped back to let them disconnect her from the stationary machines to their portable counterparts. He silently watched them push Samantha's bed out the door and down the hall towards the elevators. Martin watched as they pushed one of the smartest, funniest, sexiest women he had ever known out of his life forever.

Unable to stand the emptiness of the room, Martin headed for the stairs and paused a moment before heading down to the surgical waiting room instead of up towards the nursery.


	7. Chapter 7

_Hey everyone!! Thanks for reading! I hope this chapter meets with your approval. For those of you who don't speak Spanish, there are footnotes to help you. This chapter does come with a 2-hankie warning._

**Chapter 7**

The day of Samantha's funeral was bright and sunny. It wasn't too hot either. In fact, it was just the kind of day Samantha loved. Emily had asked the whole team to speak if they wished. Elena and Martin declined outright. Elena stating that she hadn't known Sam as long as the others and didn't feel qualified. Martin, well, Martin declined because he knew he'd never be able to tell anyone else what he felt about Samantha without breaking down. And although it was perfectly acceptable to cry at funerals, he felt that the rest of the mourners should be able to understand the speaker and not have to guess at what was being said.

Jack said he would be honored, as did Vivian. Danny was the only hold out until the day of the funeral. When he got up to speak with his arm protected in a sling, everyone present could tell that he was still in pain—and not just from losing Samantha.

"Samantha and I started working the Missing Persons' Unit on the very same day. I remember Jack giving us each these huge stacks of manuals and binders to read. I just looked at her and asked if she thought he was serious. She gave me one of those crooked smiles and asked if the stack was too heavy for me to carry," Danny paused to let the laughter die. "I could stand here and tell you all a million stories just like that one. Sam made coming to work much more fun than I ever imagined. From that first day we just kind of clicked and by the end of the week I had come to think of her like a little sister. We went out for dinner that first weekend and I told her just that. I remember how she laughed and told me she was worried I was in love with her. She said every time she started a new job somebody told her within days that she was the most beautiful person they had ever seen and that they were in love. After she stopped laughing though, she put her hand in mine and said that she was both relieved and flattered.

"After that, we were a great team; always watching out for each others' backs and stuff. I worried about her though. I knew she was lonely and I wasn't the man for her. I was so happy when she found Martin. And even though it didn't work out, I know that she was happier than I had ever seen her before." Danny watched Martin bow his head and Vivian lean in close and whisper something in his ear; he only hoped she could give Martin a bit of comfort. Speaking in front of the assembled crowd was fairly cathartic for him and Danny knew that Martin would have to have some release soon. He winced a little as he settled the sling again and picked back up his speech, "Sam knew how to surprise people too. I'll never forget when she told me she was pregnant. I probably said something stupid, but she hugged me and reminded me that I'd be an uncle—seeing how I was her big brother and all. After that, well, things were interesting and I probably teased her a bit too much, but isn't that what brothers are for?"

Danny couldn't stop the tears from running down his face as he reached the end of his speech, "I'll always have a place in my heart that's missing you, Sam. That you never got to hold Evan pisses the hell out of me too. But I know that you'll be watching over him and all of us too. I'll miss you forever, Sammy! ¡Que Dios le guarde pa' siempre hermana mía!"(1) unable to continue, he stood at the podium with tears flowing, completely powerless to leave; as if stepping away from the podium would make her death even more final.

Elena stood and spoke softly to Danny, "Vamos amor; le toca al pastor. Vamos a sentarnos Danny."(2)

The whole service was a blur to Emily. She held her nephew gently in her arms the entire time and when all else failed her, she looked down at his tiny face and saw her sister. She and Andrew had decided to name him Evan Spade Reynolds. Evan, because it meant 'young fighter' and if ever a child had to fight to survive, it was this one. The rest of his name was so he would always remember where he came from and have those who loved him close at all times.

It was Jack who drove Emily, Evan and Andrew as they followed the hearse from the church to the cemetery in the first car. The other members of the team were followed by the throng that had filled every pew in the church. Jack was personally shocked by the turnout. During his eulogy, he had seen the Director of the New York office sitting next to Alex Olczyk and Paula Van Doren. There had been a cordon of NYPD blue and a group of men with the unmistakable buzz cut of CIA agents. Then there was the large number of people whose lives had been touched by one Samantha Spade. Jack was sure he had seen some family members of missing persons they had both found and not. And grouped together for moral support were her friends from all walks of life, social workers, doctors, public defenders and teachers and so many others. Jack wondered if Sam ever knew how many lives she had touched and how many people cared about her.

At the gravesite, Jack helped Andrew and Emily into the front row before joining his team. Vivian lead the rest of the team to sit in the second row as she kept one hand in Martin's and the other in Marcus'. She was grateful for her husband's steady presence. Samantha wasn't the first friend she had lost during her career, but with Sam's impending motherhood, Vivian felt more like an older sister to Sam than ever before. She knew that Sam and Martin as a couple was long over, but seeing Martin lately, she wasn't so sure their feelings had completely died. Only now, now Martin would never know if Sam felt the same way and Vivian squeezed his hand in comfort.

Prayers were said and songs sung before the pastor allowed people to come pay their last respects. Flower after flower were laid on the coffin as the crowd thinned. By the time the team came to the front, there wasn't much of the wood showing. Martin laid the last flower—a single red rose—before the coffin was lowered.

Little Evan Spade Reynolds was only three days old and really didn't understand what was going on around him. As long as he was in his aunt's arms, he was content and didn't fuss once during the service—either in the church or at the gravesite. But once the coffin began to lower, he let out a piercing cry. It was as if he knew it was his mother being taken away. Nothing Emily or Andrew did seemed to calm him. He thrust his little head away from the bottle being offered and continued to scream as only an infant can.

Martin couldn't stand hearing his godson cry so and offered to take him for a minute. Once Evan was secure in his arms, Martin began to rock and talk softly to the screaming child, "It's ok, Evan. You're ok. Uncle Martin's here. Shh, Ev. Don't cry."

Danny came over and also spoke to try and soothe his small godson, "Oye, ¿por qué llores tanto? ¿Eh, chiquitín? ¿Qué te pasa?"(3)

Between the two men, they managed to calm little Evan back to sleep. Emily expressed her gratitude and surprise.

"Oh, he's just used to hearing us," Danny explained. "We did spend a lot of time lately with Sam. He probably recognizes our voices. Don't worry, Emily, I'm sure this was just a one-time thing."

Andrew put his arm around his wife, "We'd really like you all to come back to Samantha's apartment with us. We're going to order in some dinner and maybe do some packing. All of Evan's things are there and it was just easier to stay here in the city."

Vivian answered for the group, "We'd love to."

* * *

1 – May god keep you (safe) forever, sister mine!

2 – Come on, love; it's the pastor's turn. Let's go sit down, Danny.

3 - Hey! Why are you crying so? Eh little one? What's wrong?


	8. Chapter 8

_I know there are lots of you reading out there! THANKS! _

**Chapter 8**

The following year was tough for everyone who had been close to Samantha. Danny and Martin spent at least one day a month with Evan and the Reynolds. Sometimes they went together—especially at the beginning when Danny couldn't drive. But since Evan was their last tie to Samantha, Martin and Danny let each other go solo sometimes and have the time alone.

At the office, Van Doren was reluctant to replace Spade. Paula figured there had been enough turmoil in the team and they needed to figure out how to work together without Samantha before she tried introducing a new member. And she was right. There were many times that year when Danny said to someone, "Let's ask Sam, she'll know where to look," before realizing what he said. Martin too often wondered aloud, "What would Sam do / say / ask?"

Neither man failed to spoil their godson rotten however. At each month's birthday, Danny found a new toy for Evan to chew on, be entertained by or learn from. Martin started a college fund and bought enough books to fill a small library. Neither Emily nor Andrew knew what to make of their adoptive son's godfathers, but they were grateful for the ties to Samantha's past they brought with them.

At the first anniversary of Samantha's death—and Evan's first birthday—Jack managed to get the day off for the whole team. Together, they went to the cemetery before heading to Connecticut for Evan's first birthday party.

Andrew and Emily had gone all out for Evan. There were tons of neighborhood friends and Emily's mother had flown out for the occasion. Patricia Spade hadn't been able to come for Samantha's funeral due to a fall the day before, resulting in a broken leg, but made it a point to come to Connecticut about every six weeks or so to see her grandson. And at his first birthday, she managed to find something very special to give the only child of her youngest daughter.

"Hey Evan," Patricia sat with the infant in the Spade family rocking chair she had sent to Samantha a few months before Evan was born, "You know what today is? It's your birthday, munchkin. And I know your mommy would be so happy for you today! I know she's keeping her eye on you, Evan." Patricia paused to wipe the tear that rolled down her cheek. She knew that her relationship with Samantha had been strained for too long and she rued the fact that she wouldn't be able to fix that relationship in this lifetime. But while she couldn't make it up to Samantha, she could be there for her son. "I brought you something special, Evan. It used to belong to your mom and I know she'd want you to have it," she picked up a stuffed blue bunny rabbit and held it out to the infant, tickling his nose with the rabbit's and smiling at his giggles. "This was your mom's bunny, Ev. She slept with it every night until she was eleven. Her daddy—your grandpa—bought it for her before she was born. He was so sure she was going to be a boy like you, sweetheart. I think that's why he wanted to call her Samantha, so he could call her Sam and pretend she was a boy. It might have even been the reason he left us, but we'll never know. Anyway, Evan, this is BuBunny and he now belongs to you."

Patricia played with Evan and the bunny until Emily knocked on the door, "Hey Mom, is Evan dressed?" She paused seeing the stuffed toy in her mom's hand, "Is that BuBunny?"

"Yeah, I though Evan should have him," Patricia made the little boy giggle again, "I would have brought him sooner, but it was in a box marked 'dishes' and I didn't think to look in that box before."

"Sam thought she lost him forever," Emily sat down on the floor next to the rocking chair. "She said she was going to look for him again when she brought the baby to you for a visit."

Smiling at Evan's antics, Patricia took a moment to smooth her daughter's hair, "I'm so sorry you girls suffered. I wish I could have made it right ages ago."

Emily reached up and tickled Evan before replying, "I won't say it's ok, Mom. But Sam and I managed to find our way back to each other. I think with Evan on the way, it would have only been a matter of time before Sammy came back to you. I know she was planning on a visit. She wouldn't have said anything if she didn't want to fix things with you."

"Thanks Emily. That means a lot to me," Patricia stood and tucked her grandson onto her hip, "What do you say we go have a party?"

The party was in full swing by the time Patricia and Emily descended with Evan. Everyone cheered to see the birthday boy who shyly hid his head in his grandma's shoulder. Emily sat Evan down on the floor with some other youngsters around his same age and smiled at her nephew's playfulness with the others. He was busily handing out his toys to everyone he could reach.

"Why thank you, Evan," Jack smiled as he accepted a slightly damp car. "Why don't you play with it?" He handed the toy back and surreptitiously wiped his hand on his pant leg.

"I saw that, Jack!" Danny chided as he got down on the floor with the youngest guests. "Doesn't drool excite you anymore?"

"Not particularly, no," Jack answered before getting up and finding some adults to talk to.

Martin handed Danny a glass of lemonade, "So Jack abandoned us for more adult conversation?"

"Looks that way," Danny watched Evan hug the bunny tight, "So that was Sam's?"

"That's what Emily said," Martin swallowed hard, "Sam said something about wanting to give her bunny to the baby but was going to have to look for it when she went to visit her mom."

"I'm glad Patricia found it then," Danny said quietly. It didn't take Patricia Spade long to get both Danny and Martin to stop calling her 'Mrs. Spade.' In fact, it only took one withering look to get Danny to stop. He remembered when she shot him that look, he immediately thought of Sam and had started to cry. She had pulled him into her arms and told him it was ok to miss Samantha, because she did. "What did she say Sam called him?"

"BuBunny," Martin said, reaching over to tickle his godson.

Danny laughed, "Because it's a bunny and it's blue? How original!"

Martin joined in his laughter, "Yeah, well, Sam said her dad originally named it Blue Buster Bunny, but it was too much for her."

After all the presents had been opened and the cake and ice cream shared, Andrew and Emily found themselves alone with Samantha's team and Patricia Spade. All the neighborhood guests knew that this was both a joyous and sad day for them all. Little Evan was lying sleepily in his Auntie Vivian's arms and fighting sleep with all his might.

With a small chuckle, Patricia nodded her head to her grandson, "Sam was like that too. She never wanted to go to sleep as a little girl. Thought she'd miss out on something important."

"What about Emily?" Andrew asked, unable to avoid the slap his wife delivered to his upper arm, but happily pulled her into his arms after taking his 'punishment.'

"Oh, she was worse!" Patricia smiled, "I swear neither her father nor I got more than two hours of sleep her first year. At least Sammy would give in to sleep after a little struggle."

"I hope…" Emily started and then smiled at everyone from Andrew's arms, "I hope that _our_ little one won't inherit that particular Spade trait," she concluded laying a hand on her abdomen over Andrew's. "Evan's going to have a cousin in about five and a half months."

"That's fantastic, Emily! Congratulations!" Elena spoke first. "And if you ever need a babysitter, you'll call Sophie, right?"

"You think she can handle Evan and an infant all by herself?" Danny asked skeptically.

Elena shook her head, "Of course not. Besides, who do you think is going to drive her over here?"


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: to everyone who's been reading—a heartfelt thanks! _

_ There's only one more chapter after this one, so now would be a good time to comment…_

**Chapter 9**

By the time Evan was nearly three and his cousin, Lucy Joy, almost one and a half, both Danny and Martin found themselves busy with their own families. Elena had drug Danny to one too many family functions and had introduced him to one of her cousins. Danny, being the man that he is, flirted shamelessly with all the women. Raquel took offense and questioned his ethics. Her training as a lawyer kicked in and she held her own against Danny's protests and defense of the male species. Several arguments later, Raquel's older sister, Eva, just looked at the two of them and said, "Por Dios (4), you two, just shut up and kiss already! You both know you like each other. Just kiss and let's have some peace and quiet!" And ten months later they were married.

Martin, on the other hand, met his wife Lauren in the elevator one morning a month after Danny first kissed Raquel. Lauren Hutchinson worked for the Department of Education as a Legal Advisor and told him she didn't think his tie went well with his suit. Not knowing where the boldness came from, Martin asked her out to dinner that night. She was exactly like Samantha and nothing like Samantha all at the same time. Lauren was about the same size and stature as Sam had been, but with short dark hair and green eyes which were almost always behind her bright purple glasses. She had a wicked sense of humor and appreciated the long hours Martin sometimes had to work. About a week after Danny and Raquel's wedding, Martin proposed.

At Evan's third birthday party, he was joined once again by his neighborhood friends, his friends from pre-school, his little 'sister,' and of course everyone from Samantha's team. This year the circle of friends was expanded to include Raquel and Lauren as well as Reggie's girlfriend, Tori. Both Danny and Martin had their hands full with the littlest guests. Mercedes Sara Taylor was almost eight months old while Chelsea Simone Fitzgerald turned three months old the day before the party. Both Raquel and Lauren were gracious in naming their daughters in part for Samantha.

As he held his sleeping daughter in his arms and watched the other children playing with Evan's new toys, Martin found himself reliving the past…

"_I know we've only been dating a few months, Lauren," Martin played with her hair as she lay in his lap on his sofa. "But I want you to know I haven't felt this good in a long time."_

_Lauren reached up and pulled his face down for a kiss. When she let him sit back up, she asked, "Because of what happened to your co-worker?" Sam's birthday had been the week before and Martin had spent the evening melancholy and morose and nothing Lauren tried would bring him out of the funk._

_Martin nodded, "I'm sorry about last week. It was her birthday and Sam was…she was more than just my co-worker," he finished quietly._

"_I gathered as much," Lauren admitted. "You seem to not want to talk about her much. Did she break your heart?"_

"_In a way," Martin started, "But she also taught me a lot about love too. She was always so strong—maybe too strong in some ways. I never thought I'd lose her in the line of duty. I always thought she'd be there, that maybe, some day, we could try again."_

_Lauren sat up and took his hands in hers, "Why don't you tell me what happened between you two. I won't be mad, Martin. We both have a past. I've told you about Robert and how abusive he was. Why don't you tell me and be free of the past?"_

_The fact that she said 'be free' made Martin think. He __had__ been a bit trapped by his past with Samantha to fully have a future with Lauren. And the more time he spent with her, the more Martin felt like she could be someone he could build a future with; someone he'd be proud to call his wife. He nodded and took a deep breath and confessed all about the first time he found love and how, ultimately, it ended badly for both him and Samantha. He told her about getting shot and his addiction to painkillers. He confessed how when Sam told him she was pregnant, he felt a little piece of his heart die and that how when he held Sam's hand as she died, he truly didn't know how he was going to get through life without her. _

_Lauren hadn't moved or made a sound while Martin told her about Samantha and their relationship, breakup and renewal of friendship. When he got to her death, she couldn't help but shed a tear or two for Samantha, Martin and little Evan. She squeezed his hands tight and whispered, "I'm so sorry!"_

_Martin returned the grip and leaned forward and kissed her lightly._

"_What about now?" she asked._

"_Now?" Martin gave her one of his trademark grins, "Now I know I'm meant to be with you. Do you remember that day in the elevator? You told me my tie clashed with my shirt. I wasn't going to say anything. I certainly wasn't going to ask you out for dinner!"_

"_So what happened? What changed your mind?" Lauren loved his dimples when he smiled and she returned his grin._

"_It was the strangest thing, I felt this little shove in the middle of my back and I knew I had to ask you out."_

_Lauren tipped her head and asked sardonically, "What, a little voice told you to ask me out?"_

"_I think it was more than a little voice," Martin looked at her sheepishly. "I mean, I asked Sam to look out for all of us. I know Jack and Vivian did too. I think—and I know it sounds crazy—but I think it was Sam. I think it was Sam making sure I didn't screw up my future the way I did the past."_

"_You think Samantha was telling you not to let the opportunity being presented to you to slip away?" Lauren looked a little skeptical and a little awed._

"_Do you think I'm crazy?"_

_Lauren shook her head, "Not at all." She settled herself into his lap and kissed him deeply before she pulled back and looked up, "Thanks Samantha! I'll take good care of him!"_

Martin gently laid his daughter back in the car seat and joined his wife on the couch, accepting the cola she handed him. He was about to take a sip when his 'nephew' interrupted.

"Unca Martin? Why you gave me this present?" Evan held up a worn copy of Winnie the Pooh.

Handing Laura his drink, Martin gathered up the little boy with Sam's crooked smile and big brown eyes and sat him on his lap; opening the book's front cover, "See here, Evan?" Martin drew his finger under the childish writing on the line titled 'This book belongs to.' "That's your mommy's name—Samantha Spade—this book was hers."

Although he was just three, Evan knew very well that his mommy was in heaven watching him grow and be happy. Evan knew that even though he called Emily "Momma" she really was his aunt and that his "Papa" was his uncle. He couldn't quite grasp that Lucy Joy was his cousin and not his sister—but then again, he was just three.

"Why'd you have it?" he asked his godfather.

Martin hugged the little boy tight, "A long time ago, when you weren't even here yet, your mommy gave me a box of things that I had left at her house. Somehow, this book ended up in that box and I waited until you were old enough to sit still and listen to give it to you."

Evan looked up at Martin with his eyes shining, "I'm big enough now! Read, Unca Martin!"

* * *

4 = My god!


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N This is the last chapter. Thanks to everyone who read, but an especial big THANKS for those of you who REVIEWED!!!_

**Chapter 10**

The years passed and the old team kept finding missing people and experiencing changes. Estella Murphy joined the team eighteen months after Samantha's death. Then, about the time Evan started the fourth grade, Jack Malone retired after serving the FBI for almost thirty years. He said good-bye to his life on the busy streets of New York and headed to Chicago to be closer to his daughters. Vivian Johnson also had a major life change. Less than seven years after taking over for Jack, Paula Van Doren presented her with the keys to her office. Vivian was Deputy Director for the New York office.

In those intervening years, Martin Fitzgerald's life had become the dream he so often spoke of—a loving wife, children, and the picket-fenced house in the suburbs. Martin relinquished the dream of a family dog when he realized how allergic Lauren was to furry animals. He was still a member of the Missing Person's squad, sharing the supervisory role with Danny and a much larger team. Lauren still worked for the Department of Education, but on a reduced schedule so that at least one parent could be available for the kids and their activities. Chelsea Simone had two younger siblings—Veronica Marie and Henry Joseph. By the time she turned fifteen, Chelsea chafed at the restrictions her parents set down, but endured them as best she could without actually getting into serious trouble with Mercedes Taylor, her best friend. Veronica was two years younger and far better behaved than her older sister. Henry was actually a surprise—a full five years younger than Veronica. Lauren and Martin had resigned themselves to their two beautiful girls when one afternoon, Lauren surprised Martin in the office and told him the happy news.

Danny Taylor shared the supervisory duties with Martin and they ran a much larger department than Jack or Vivian ever had. They had twelve agents who reported to them and often spent most of their days in the office coordinating more than one case at a time. Raquel and Danny lived in an old brownstone on the Upper West Side and managed to spend almost every other weekend out at Lauren and Martin's suburban paradise. Mercedes Sara, like Chelsea, had two younger siblings; in her case, they came in the form of two brothers. David Alejandro was three years younger and Carlos Elijah, five. Mercedes tolerated her brothers, but managed to spend most of her time with Chelsea.

Evan Spade Reynolds was now eighteen years old. To anyone who had known Samantha, it was obvious that Evan was her son. His hair was more light brown than blonde, but his eyes and mouth were all Sam. Both Danny and Martin made the effort to spend time with the boy who laughed like his mother often. He was a good student and had applied to several colleges in the Northeast. He wanted to become a doctor and help families make a difference through organ transplant. His dream of becoming a doctor began one day, when Evan was about twelve. A letter came addressed to "The family of Samantha Spade." It was from the organ transplant organization—well, really it was from one of the recipients of Sam's donation that the organization forwarded. That Samantha had been an organ donor was never really discussed with Evan until the letter arrived.

Initially, Evan had been angry that there were pieces of his mother still 'alive' when he was forced to know her though pictures and stories. But after a good long talk with his Papa and his uncles, he came to realize that his mother had been all about helping other people—in life as well as in death. It wasn't too long after that when Evan decided to become a doctor.

A week before Evan's high school graduation, Martin received a cryptic message asking him to meet Evan at Samantha's grave. Worried what Evan might be thinking, Martin made his way out of the city and to the cemetery. When he arrived, Martin's worry increased. Evan was sitting on the bench near the gravesite holding a small box in his lap.

"Hey, Ev. What'cha got there?" Martin sat down next to his nephew.

Evan shrugged, "Letters to my mom and from my mom."

"Who are they addressed to?" Martin thought he recognized one of the envelopes, but wasn't sure.

"You, mostly," Evan looked at Martin with tears in his eyes, "Why didn't you ever tell me you loved her?"

Martin swallowed hard. In truth, he had been expecting this conversation for the past couple of years; dreading it, but expecting it nonetheless. "Um, well, Ev, it's like this. I did love your mother; very much, in fact. But we had a disastrous relationship, and we broke up about three years before you were born."

"But you never told me you loved her," Evan absently wiped under his nose and pulled out one of the letters. "You wrote her. You said you'd always love her. That one day you wanted to marry her and be with her forever!"

"Yeah, I did write that," Martin admitted, clearly remembering the drunken state he was in when he wrote it, a full six months after being shot. "I gave that letter to your mom and begged her to try our relationship again."

Evan looked at Martin, "You broke up with her and then asked to get back together?"

"And she turned me down," Martin said sadly. "Not that I blame her," he added quickly, "I wasn't very nice to your mom towards the end of our relationship. I broke up with her in the middle of the office and didn't even give her a chance to explain herself or redeem herself. When she came to my house that night and begged for another chance, I slammed the door in her face and refused to take her calls except for work." Martin pointed to the date on the letter, "It took us about three months to regain any part of our friendship. I wrote that about six months after I was shot in the line of duty—and drunk to boot. By that time, your mom and I were sort-of friends again, but no where near where we had been in the past."

"So you kind of ruined it? Is that why you're not my dad?" Evan had calmed after hearing Martin explain.

"You are so much like her, Evan. Damn perceptive and right on the money. Yeah, I ruined it and us," Martin ran his hand though what was left of his hair. "Your mom and I became friends again—even good friends. But when it came to intimacy, I wasn't even an option anymore to your mom. She sought out your dad and then along came you!" Martin hoped the boy wouldn't want more details. It just wasn't appropriate to tell him that Sam was lonely one night and took home a guy whose name she couldn't remember in the morning.

Evan hung his head, "And he didn't want me."

Martin pulled the boy close, "He didn't and doesn't deserve to know you, Evan. He told your mother that she was on her own."

"Is that why she chose Momma?"

"Yes, it is," Martin hugged him tight. "Samantha knew her sister would love you as much as she did. And just so you know the whole truth, I did love your mother, Evan. There is still a place in my heart that belongs to her and always will. Your Aunt Lauren knows this and understands. But even though there's a place in my heart for her, there's an even bigger place for you."

Evan turned to face Martin, "Thanks for coming Uncle Martin. I'm sorry I freaked out."

Martin stood and pulled Evan to his feet, "Everyone deserves to freak out now and then, Evan. I'm just glad you called me and didn't do anything silly."

"Me too," Evan shook his head and picked up the box of letters, "Oh, I almost forgot. I got into Georgetown. I sent them my acceptance letter on my way here."

"Ev, that's fantastic!" Martin clapped him on the back, "I know your mom would be so proud!"

"Thanks. I hope she's still watching. See you on Friday," Evan laid his hand on the tombstone as he left Martin still standing by the bench.

Martin watched the young man leave and looked at the weathered headstone, "You'd be so happy, Sam. He's a great kid! Thanks for watching out for him, and all of us too!" As he turned to leave, Martin was sure he heard Samantha's laughter, so he looked up and smiled.

* * *

_I hope you all enjoyed the story. This was just one idea I had about the horrible writing surrounding Samantha's baby. I have a couple more in the works._

_Respectfully submitted, RRSherlock_


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